In the agonized cries of the evil cultivator, Zhang Lan and his two companions looked at Mo Hua with even more complex emotions.
Mo Hua wiped Zhang Lan's sword on the ground, but the bloodstains remained, not wiped away.
Zhang Lan sighed, helplessly took the sword back, and slid it directly into its sheath.
"Alright, it's done now, we can go back."
Then, still led by Mo Hua, Zhang Lan and his two companions took turns dragging the evil cultivator down the mountain path.
As for whether the evil cultivator would die from the rough handling, they were too lazy to care.
If he didn't die, good fortune was on his side; if he did, he got what he deserved.
On the way, Situ Fang couldn't help but praise:
"Mo Hua, your movement technique is amazing!"
She had been watching from the side, sweating from fear.
When she saw Mo Hua successfully evade the evil cultivator's attacks each time, she breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't help but admire him.
